Lost and Found
by Dancing Mask
Summary: Both have lost greatly- a boy stranded on a deserted island filled with wild pokemon, and a trainer, his precious team stolen from him. Losing is never pleasant, but sometimes it'll lead you to find something you've never thought possible.
1. Hope and Despair

Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo, we make no money from their series, we simply enjoy it, etc etc. All OC's belong to us, naturally.

**Chapter one- Hope and Despair**

"Fucking jellicent..." A young man paced forward, head down, shoulders hunched. His legs shook, but not from the cold. If anything it was too hot, unnaturally muggy for him. He made it past the tree line, nearly tripping on roots and vines that danced together underneath the many fallen leaves. His sandy hair matched the beach he'd arrived on, the ocean beyond lit up by the afternoon sun. Dropping his hard-won fruit carelessly on the sand the man continued to walk out towards the water, talking to himself the entire time.

"You just HAD to go to Unova early. See the natural sights? Hah! Plenty of nature to look at _here_, alright!" He began shouting at the ocean now, ankle deep in the water and adding to the depths with his tears. "Wanted to get away from it all, spend some time away from dad, didn't you Seth? Well you got what you wanted!" The young man was now in the water up to his waist, arms flung wide. "Now you can spend ALL the time away you want from him! In fact, maybe you'll never see him again! Isn't that just great!" The salt on the wind stung his eyes but he refused to look away. The horrible, vast blue _nothing_ in front of him was all he could see. He wasn't even sure where the horizon ended and the sea met the sky.

The cry of wingull, high above him, snapped him out of his thoughts. More pokemon. Just what he needed. Seth glanced back at the bananas he'd dropped in the sand, making sure no crafty grass types had come to steal his meal. As if his dislike for pokemon wasn't strong enough already, now he was stuck on an island teeming with wild ones. It surprised him that he had even survived the last three days. And it was all thanks to jellicent- as Seth had learned, they were a fiercely territorial water pokemon, one that often captured ships. The entire cruise liner, its supplies, all of its crew, even his own mother had vanished without a trace. He might be the only survivor.

"If I ever get off this island, I'll swear I'll hunt them down to extinction. Fucking pokemon." But that would have to wait. For now he had his work cut out just staying alive and finding food. Running a hand along his forehead, eyeing the amount of sweat with surprise, he realised he might be getting a fever as well. Perfect. It all came with the experience. The wonderful experience of being shipwrecked.

* * *

The boy's eyes glinted wickedly with undisguised malice and an equally unpleasant smile soon appeared on his lips. "Kill him," he told his pokemon, a strange black lamp-like creature with burning blue flames at its centre. The pokemon's flaming face mirrored its master's and a bright orange flame alighted at the end of one of its long wavy arms; the arm edged closer and closer towards the prisoner's face until the man swore he felt it lick the end of his nose, but still he made no move to edge away from it.

He was resolute, his cause was just and he was willing to die for it.

"Wait," ordered the boy suddenly. The pokemon moved back, startled and let the flames in its hands die away.

A frown appeared on the boy's youthful face, which then abruptly disappeared, only to be replaced with a look that sent chills down the man's spine. The man gulped determinately; he wasn't afraid of death. He would handle anything that the boy sent his way, and with all the honour of one who was a member of the illustrious and righteous Team Plasma. Or so he kept telling himself.

"Why don't you eat his soul instead?"

The lamp-like pokemon's yellow eyes brightened at the words and it stared hungrily down at the man.

The plasma grunt's eyes widened in fear, and he struggled ferociously against his bindings, as he had done before. He screamed wordlessly through his mouth gag, as his face turned red and beads of sweat began to pour down his face. A burnt soul meant that there would be no heaven or hell for him, no reincarnation, nothing. Only pain and nothingness awaited him, or so the legends said.

He was terrified.

The boy smiled unpleasantly, pleased by this reaction. The threat had worked. With a hand gesture he stopped his pokemon who was edging closer to the bound man again. "Are you ready to talk yet?" he asked amiably.

The man nodded fearfully, tears edging his eyes.

The boy kneeled down on the dirty floor and undid the bindings on the man's mouth.

"So? Where are they?" he asked, all traces of fake pleasantness gone from his voice. "Where did you bastards take my pokemon?"

With the flaming pokemon leering hungrily at him. The man talked. He told the boy everything.

* * *

The tall spindly insect pokemon played a lulling tune with its leaf like hands, and Brian watched as the plasma grunt's eyes began to glaze over and slowly shut. Seconds later the man had fallen asleep, the sound of his snoring filling the air.

Brian let out a huge breath he didn't know he had been holding and uncovered his ears. "Thank you," he muttered to his leavanny as he returned it to its pokeball. Then he turned his focus to his lampent who was drifting about lazily in the air behind him. "Sorry you had to play the bad guy Wicky," he told it.

The ghostly pokemon smiled up at him with its fiery mouth, showing him that it understood and didn't resent him for it.

Brian gave the unconscious (and still tied up) plasma grunt one final glance before he made his way out of the Castelia City Sewers. He wasn't worried about the man dying down here. Someone would find him eventually; the place was often frequented by trainers looking for wild poison type pokemon after all. Hopefully by then it'd be too late for the grunt to do anything to stop him.

"We've nearly found them Wicky," he muttered as they walked into the gloom illuminated by the fire pokemon's light. "We're going to get them back."

The lampent merely smiled and wrung its wavy arms around its trainer's neck in a comforting embrace.

* * *

A/N: The first chapter is up! Me and my co-writer, who insists on only being known as 'my acquaintance' are excited for this one, big plans.

Feel free to tell us which story you prefer, to spite them. See ya next time!


	2. Past and Future

**Chapter two- Past and Future**

**Brian**

The golurk shot through the air like a rocket, with Brian fearfully atop it, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around the pokemon's rock-hard body despite the wads of string-shot gluing him safely down. No matter how many times he had done it before, he couldn't get use to the sensation of flying.

After a few moments of terror he closed his eyes and forcefully made himself think about his destination instead, Victory Road or specifically, what was supposedly hidden beneath it, an underground castle. Brian couldn't even begin to fathom what team plasma was planning nor did he care. He just wanted his pokemon back.

Brian laughed bitterly to himself and felt his golurk tense up at the harsh sound.

–_Is something the matter?_ - It asked, a hint of worry in its telepathic question.

"No, "replied Brian lightly. "It's nothing, I'm fine."

-_Is that so?_- replied the golurk, clearly not believing him. Nevertheless it left him alone, and for that Brian was thankful.

Victory Road, it was funny really. 7 months ago he had desperately wanted to come to Victory Road, with hopes of becoming the Unovan champion, but thanks to team plasma that dream had disappeared with his pokemon. Now here he was again, heading for that same destination, his hard earned badges gathering dust in some dark corner of his pack.

* * *

_7 months ago_

Brian sighed and laid down on the lumpy little bed, his body sore and his clothes damp from his latest attempt at defeating the gym leader. He stared up blankly at the white ceiling, ignoring the struggling pokeballs on his waist. He just wanted to lie like this forever... All of a sudden there was a bright flash of light and a golett abruptly appeared. The pokemon gave him a scathing look –a mean feat considering it lacked a face- and reached for the rest of his pokeballs. Brian sat back up and watched silently as one by one it released the rest of his pokemon, making the small room they were in seem even smaller.

They didn't look happy.

-_We're not happy_- his golett told him telepathically, the holes on its body flashing brightly.

"Accel-gor-gor!" complained his accelgor heatedly.

-_Rino_ _asks that you stop being a loser and win you pathetic pile of trubbish droppings. We've been at it for weeks already_- translated the golem-pokemon solemnly. –_His words not mine_- it added.

For some reason Brian doubted that that was entirely true.

"Look, I'm sorry, but we'll win next time okay?" Brian told them, wondering if the words sounded as hollow to them as it did him.

Suddenly, his banette let out a strange high-pitched giggle and held his hand out to another one of Brian's other pokemon. The absol glared at the ghost pokemon then at Brian, and then it huffed, and walked away; curling itself into a little ball in a corner of the room. Brian shot the golett a questioning look.

-_Bane and Almos had a bet- _explained the pokemon. -_You do realise that you've said those same words multiple times these past weeks do you not?_-

"Have I?" asked Brian wearily.

-_Yes, thanks to your lack of vocabulary, Almos now has to participate in one of Bane's childish pranks. I hope you're pleased with yourself_-

"S-Sorry," apologised Brian, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. It seemed that at least one of his pokemon expected them to fail again. They were losing hope in him.

-_Well?_-

"Well what?"

-_What's the new plan for defeating Brycen_?-

None of his pokemon made a single movement, but he knew that they were all waiting for his reply.

With a large sigh, Brian laid down on his bed again, both hands cushioning the back of his head. Then after a long-drawn out silence, he finally replied. "I don't know..."

"Accelgor?" demanded his accelgor.

-_He demands to know what you mean by that- _the golett dutifully translated.

"It means that I don't know!" answered Brian heatedly. "I'm tired! Why don't you guys think of something for once? Stop depending on me all the arceus-damned time! Why do I have to make all the damned decisions on this team?"

There was a pregnant pause, as his pokemon gaped at him. He had never yelled at them with such anger before.

"La-la-lampent..." said his lampent quietly, breaking the silence.

-_Because you're our trainer..._-

Brian grimaced at the words. Wordlessly he rolled himself into his blanket and closed his eyed tightly; doing his best to ignore the stares that he could feel boring into his backside.

* * *

_The present _

The golurk let out a sigh of pleasure as it settled down by the fireside, its joint creaking as it sat. It gave a cautious glance at the boy sleeping across from it underneath a pile of leaves, a lamp-like pokemon floating protectively over him. Once he was satisfied that the boy was still asleep, it carefully stretched its large limbs and let out another sigh.

"Tired Mios?" asked the spindly, green pokemon sitting beside it, her hands skilfully mending a rip in what the golem recognised as one of the boy's pants.

"Of course I am, Levana," he told her curtly. "Wouldn't you be after flying for so many hours?"

The leavanny glanced up from her work and shrugged. "I wouldn't know," she said as she went back to her work, "my kind doesn't know how to fly... though it does seem interesting. Perhaps one day you'll take me for a ride?"

"...Perhaps when this is all over," Mio told her amicably. "Though I must warn you, it isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Nothing ever is..." replied the leavanny.

No more words were spoken, and the two sat in comfortable silence, content in the other's presence. Finally, Levana stood up, and with a side glance at Mios and a smile she walked towards the sleeping boy, the pants carefully folded in her arms. "Goodnight Mios," she told him. "Stay safe tomorrow," she added, the words said so softly that the golurk almost missed them.

"You too," he whispered back.

The golem watched as she fashioned herself a nest of leaves for herself, like she had done the boy. He watched as she lay down, and fell asleep. Soon even little Wicky had fallen asleep, his brilliant blue flames now a weak translucent red.

Mios alone stayed awake, a silent sentinel in the night. Just as he done so many countless times before.

* * *

**Seth**

Days on the island: seven. That's what the scratches on the bark were telling Seth. He'd made sure to scratch the same palm tree near the water every morning, and already he'd screwed it up. Somehow. Because it didn't feel like seven days at all- it felt like so many more, or maybe less. He didn't know. If you'd told the boy to keep track of the days back home he wouldn't have had a problem; it was easy to tell apart the days when they had names. Tuesday he might have seen a movie, Wednesday shopping, Thursday he worked. The days were separate, the memories stood out clearly, they had _meaning_. Here- on the island- it wasn't as easy. Every day so far had been part of the one hellish blur of forcing himself between trees and stumbling on rocks and sweating constantly and fending off wild pokemon, all without an end in sight. It could have been the fourth day or fourth week. Maybe it was the distant future, and he'd lived his whole life on that island. That notion was surprisingly believable, with how he felt.

Standing up from the tree with a grunt, Seth told himself it was just the fever messing with his head. He could still tell apart the days just fine. He could tell _the shit _out of the days. As soon as he recovered from this illness he'd be thinking perfectly clearly again. But that made him wonder if he ever really would get better, casting a shadow over his thoughts as effectively as the black clouds in the sky. Using a fallen branch for support Seth hobbled his way over to a small river he'd found- the only fresh water supply he'd seen in the week so far. God this fever was annoying. Even as the water spilled out from his cupped hands, running down his chin, his throat was burning dry like an oven. It didn't seem to go away even after he'd drank enough to feel sick. Sicker.

"Okay, think man, think." Seth settled back on his haunches, rubbing his hands along his temples. "You could have a cold from not sleeping properly, and having no shelter. That one's obvious. The colour of your pee, that one's not covered by a cold. So... dehydration, or lack of nutrients? Right. Sure. Need to find more than fruit to eat today, and need to get the hang of that bloody fire. That's step one in getting better. Soon or never. Got it Seth? You can do this. Cavemen figured out how to make a fire, and they were dumb. You're smart. Admittedly they had fire pokemon, and there doesn't seem to be any here, but still; there are other ways to make a damn fire. Involving sticks." He rambled a little more to himself, not even aware he was still talking. Delirium might have been another of his symptoms, Seth realised as he shut his lips tight, a sweaty hand clasped over mouth. Couldn't afford to lose it out here. Had to stay sane and alive until rescue came. If it ever came. No, _when_ rescue came, damn it! That is, if he was still alive by the time someone showed up...

"I can't afford to think like this!" he cried, smacking his head against his hands. Seth curled into a ball, shivering and shaking violently. Some amount of time later he got up and started wandering around, going carefully in case he fell. He had to reserve all of his spare energy in case he ran into another pokemon. The bug types weren't so bad, and the birds were happy to keep their distance. He'd been woken up the other day by a small plant pokemon which he was pretty sure was called bellsprout judging by the sounds it was making. That one had tried sucking on his head. What _was_ a problem were the crab pokemon along the sand which were vicious for their size, and a laughing monkey pokemon of some sort had thrown rocks at him from the treetops. He'd only gained small injuries so far, but in his current state Seth had no illusions that these pokemon could take him in a fight. It was safest just to avoid contact with all of the little monsters completely. Knowing his luck the worms he was nearly stepping on would be able to shoot out rivers of poison attacks and gas him anyway; there was just no telling with pokemon.

It was late in the afternoon that Seth found the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen on the island. Wing broken, half of the feathers fallen off and bloodied, one leg inflated. It may have been a dead wingull, but to his eyes it was a decadent five-star banquet. It took Seth two straight hours, but the incentive to cook it helped him finally get a fire going. He attempted to skin and prepare his meal, but running it under water didn't seem to help much. It was strange to see meat that looked so much like an animal. Seth knew meat came from pokemon, sure, but normally it looked like... well, food. This looked more like a slab of bloodied meat and intestines.

The fire was weak and died before Seth had properly finished cooking the bird, but he didn't care and ate half of it before throwing everything back up. Laughing hysterically at his own stupidity, the blond managed to get the fire going once more and paced himself slightly better after that. The water and flying type was a little stringy, but surprisingly spicy. As they say, hunger makes the best sauce.

The next morning he still felt bad, but his mind was clearer after such a productive day. Seth had no illusions- if he hadn't gotten lucky and found that dead wingull, he might not have lived much longer. As the boy lifted a branch and awkwardly scratched away at his tree, Seth thought about ways he could get more meat. He hadn't risked eating any of the bugs he'd seen for fear they were poisonous, but those crabs should be safe to eat. It was a little risky, but if he waited any longer he'd be even weaker, and he had to do more to keep his strength up. Seth now had a plan: build up a food reserve and a proper shelter, ideally before sundown tonight. If he didn't manage those things soon he'd probably get even weaker. He couldn't bank on being rescued- he had to act like he was going to be on the island for a long time ahead, think long-term or die out here. And that wasn't something he was prepared to do.

It was early that very morning when Seth's streak of good luck ran dry. He'd been attempting to sharpen a fallen branch, and had managed to snap off the extra twigs so far. Then suddenly he was on the ground, back stinging. Squawking ringing in his ears, Seth scrambled to his feet to meet his foe: another wingull. The white-and-blue bird had a large wingspan, its beak was aimed at him, and this one was rather more alive than last nights.

"What's wrong? Not happy I ate your friend?"

"Gull! Gull!" A stream of water splashed Seth in the face, knocking him back down again.

"I'll take that as a yes then," he replied sourly, rubbing his eyes dry with a sleeve. Well, there was only one thing to do, he decided, charging at the bird head-on.

"Wiiiing!" it cried, doing the same. What followed was less a battle and more him swinging his branch over and over again on the bird's body, kicking out wildly and using his height advantage to the fullest. He expected to feel bad when he smacked its head against the rocks, but there was no guilt at all, which might have been worse. Seth had too little energy to fight fairly, and he needed another decent meal badly. It nearly got away all the same, covering his arm with scratches and dousing him with water several times in their flailing excuse of a fight. He wasn't proud of the things he yelled at it, but he managed to win. Seth looked over the bird's frail body a few minutes later, one wing bent at a funny angle, its blood dripping from his hands, and began to cry. He hadn't realised he still had tears to spill. Even if it _was_ just a pokemon, Seth considered saying something religious for it.

But they'd just be meaningless words.

As he carried his latest meal back to the little clearing where he'd been sleeping, Seth wondered if he was slowly becoming a pokemon as well. This island was changing him, but if it was change or die that was what he had to do. He had too much waiting at home to just give up.

As he washed his cuts in the stream, the stranded kid realised he did have another problem he had to address, and soon. He couldn't continue to fight off the wild pokemon, especially any of the more dangerous ones. What if there were more next time? What if the whole flock of wingull were angry at him, not just that one? Tentatively, he revised his to-do list once again. Catch a pokemon, for his side...?

"No." Seth shook his head firmly. "I will _not_ change that much. Pokemon got me into this mess, the last thing I need is one of my own."

...Right?

* * *

A/N: Update! We apologize for the delay, computer troubles conspired to make writing impossible. So Seth slowly gets used to fighting for his survival, but hates pokemon too much to ever get one. Three guesses how long that lasts ^^; Meanwhile Brian's fast on his way to team plasma headquarters- and his stolen team-mates. But is he really in control here, or does his team seem to lead _him_ half the time?


	3. Spiders and Scorpions

**Chapter three- Spiders and Scorpions**

**Seth**

Seth Rourke cleared away the moss and tree litter, perspiring heavily. He'd climbed over halfway up the mountain at the center of his island this morning, but that wasn't what had him sweating. In his three months on the island this was probably the scariest place he'd been, and the one most likely to kill him.

"Someone remind me why I'm going in again..." he complained. But of course, there was no reply, just a breeze and some wingull cries in the distance

Almost like a trapdoor there was a pit here among the moss, barely noticeable until some jackass of a human stumbled into it and widened the entrance. That had been a few weeks ago, when Seth first checked this part of the mountain. It held little but some mushroom pokemon (one of which were delicious, the other of which gave him the runs) and some mossy rocks in the first 'room'.

Was it his imagination, or was the pit in question the _exact_ size and shape of an open grave? It was covered not only by fallen leaves and moss, but also a layer of spiderwebs below that. The blond remembered his first voyage in there vividly.

"Well..." he gulped mid-sentence, "If there's anything in there that can help you it'd be pretty silly to stay on this island any longer without checking it out, right?" Wishing he had a shirt (his own torn to hell and now a pile of dirty rags lying in his cave) Seth crouched by the totally-not-a-grave and dug. Using a large branch he quickly scooped up most of the webs and moss, sweeping it from side to side as it stuck to the wood like the world's largest and most disgusting cotton candy stick. He spent the next chunk of the morning setting it ablaze with a camp he'd prepared yesterday, but even now he wasn't exactly the best at starting fires. Then he had to hang around impatiently as it cooled down- it wouldn't do to leave a fire roaring while he was underground and set the whole damn place ablaze. As the blonde had hoped, the disgusting branch worked perfectly as a makeshift torch. Holding it up high, cobwebs steadily burning, he leaned over the edge, teetering between potential danger and curiosity. It was a small pit, about as tall as he was, but almost impenetrable to his eyes considering the gloom above surface. He let his breath out in one big sigh, not even realising it had pent up. Then the soft soil gave way, making his choice for him. He landed ass-first on the rocky floor, wincing. By some small miracle the fire didn't go out with the impact.

"Well, the sooner the better I guess..." he mumbled half-heartedly. He pressed on, squeezing between the rocks ahead. There was only one way to go- a natural cleft between two walls of rock- and it was tight. But he made it, thinking happy thoughts the entire time as he made it as far as he had last time, into the next room of the caves. And the spiders were still there, great. Specifically, there was three types of spider pokemon he could make out- in order of size, green, pink and yellow varieties. Swell. They reacted predictably, scurrying away frantically at his entrance, retreating further into the darkness, all the while clicking and making spitting noises. He hadn't met a pokemon used to fire of any kind on the island, especially in the dark, something he used shamelessly to his advantage every day.

Seth surveyed the cave, sweeping his flickering light source slowly across it all. The cave was all one kind of rock, but embedded in that rock were what looked like shiny blue gems. Interesting. If they were worth anything he could be rich, whenever he did manage to leave. In the corner were some huddled mushroom pokemon which seemed to be sleeping. They were unimportant though, he had better tasting food and actual mushrooms growing much closer to home. There was little else to look at, just a fuckton of webs coating every surface as if competing with each other. Taking care not to walk through any he checked out his options from a distance- path one was a corridor leading out of this main hub. Path two was a curving passage that was completely blocked by a large pink spider, its eyes following his every movement slowly.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, easy there," he murmured softly. It seemed scared of him for now, but who knew when it might attack. He decided on path one and continued, descending slightly as the earth angled down. There was little to report for the length of the path, which curved and shifted roughly from time to time. The surfaces seemed smoothened out by the constant tread of pokemon, most of which were spiders judging by the pale slime. Seth counted the blue gems shining from within the walls to pass the time, the only feature on the walls. He heard strange rustling noises from time to time, but no spiders were in sight. At his thirty-third gem the path finally split into three, a fork. He eyed the new paths with suspicion. Apart from a scared little green spider he hadn't seen a single pokemon this whole time. Which one was the right path to take?

"Eenie Meenie Miney Mo, catch a diglett by the toe..." he ended up heading left, all the while muttering about how stupid that rhyme was, and how diglett didn't even have toes did they? No they did not. Probably.

If you had asked Seth that morning what the top three things he wanted to find down here were, he would have said, in order: a way off the island, other people to share his misery, or lastly a ton of food, tools or anything similar that could make his stay a little more bearable. If you'd asked what he wanted to find the _least_ in the caverns, the answer would have been simple- to get his punk-ass killed for being too curious. Naturally, life wasn't simple or straight-froward enough to give him any of these, but he sure did come close to three out of four. Sort of.

The chest had been his first discovery. Sitting there at the end of the next dead end, a wooden trunk almost as high as his knees. One that could only have been designed by _people_. Seth would have done a happy dance if his torch wasn't starting to die . He ran to the box and poured over the craftsmanship, admiring the metal on the hinges and lock, the strange bird pokemon engraved on one side. He'd be lucky if an antique store even glanced at it with the condition it was now in, but to Seth it was worth more than the starmie jewel in the Queen's crown. There could be anything in there! He quickly glanced around, but noticed little else of value in the room. There was the remains of what had once probably been a chair, but nothing on the walls or floor to suggest anyone had been here in a long, long time. Hefting the chest under his free arm with a little bit of effort, he backed out of the dead end and back to the cross-roads when he ran into his second discovery of the day: electric spiders.

If he believed in such a thing as intelligent design, then whichever god had designed these electric spider pokemon were dicks. They were hairy, bright yellow and purple, with spiky tendrils of some sort below their eyes twitching curiously in his direction. He hated them instantly. There was also three of them and they were all covered in electricity, leaping and jumping across their fur in little arcs. Seth stared for a moment, unable to breathe. The only sound he could hear was the twin cracklings of the fire on his torch and the lightning on the pokemon's bodies. The three pokemon were covering the path he had come in through, sticking to the walls and ceiling as easily as if it were the ground. Seth let out his breath slowly. They perked up at that, but made no move.

"Easy there..." Seth whispered, not sure if he was talking to them or himself. "I'm just passing through, I won't eat anything or take your blue rocks." They continued to stare blankly. Admittedly, he hadn't really expected they would understand English. Holding the torch out in front of him like a talisman, Seth took one step forward. The front spider reacted by rearing up on its hind legs and screaming.

"Ah, ah! Shit!" Seth took a few more steps to the side, away from the spiders by reaction. Moving slowly probably would have been the smarter thing to do- his quick movements must have seemed like an attack to the spiders, which jumped at him and started yelling.

"Gal! Gal! Tula!" Well, he was in the fire now. Seth hot-footed it as quickly as he could, racing down the new tunnel, pursued by his new friends. Gooey web shot past him, coating the wall by a near miss. If that got him he was a goner for sure. He took turns at random, not sure if he was heading deeper into the caves or not. A left here, a right there. The chest was getting heavy and slowing him down, the practical side of him argued- but it was his only link to other humans in the last three months, his emotional side argued back. He wasn't going down here for nothing, no way would he leave his new treasure chest behind.

"Vantulaaaa!" The gigantic spider roared as he took his latest turn. Oh hell. Seth had run into a dead end. He quickly backed up, the torch braced in front of him. The spiders halted to a stop in front of him, webs flying out of their gross mouths, coating his leg. Seth flailed, using the fire to burn it off before it set. The web prickled like static electricity, but didn't seem to be a proper attack. Yet another fired webs at him, this time narrowly hitting his shoulder as he ducked.

"Cut that out, would you!" Seth yelled back. Amazingly, that seemed to work.

The spiders suddenly halted, cautiously watching him. Hm.

"That's better," he said half-heartedly. Somehow, the spiders backing away made him more nervous. They knew they could take him, so what could make them retreat, he wondered? Seth had a bad feeling he would find out if he looked behind him. But if he didn't look back, the danger didn't become real. Nope, he'd just stare forward and glare at the gigantic spider pokemon. He continued to watch them, taking baby steps forward. Trusty torch was going to die soon. He'd have to make a break for it or he had a date with web tonight. They seemed to flinch slightly if he pushed the fire closer. Good, good. Now if only he could get them to step backwards properly, so he could get past them. Then he heard the tiny scratching noise. Nope, not looking back, he was working on his escape plan. Go away noises. He heard it again, like the sound a fingernail makes on cloth. Not going to look back, not going to look back-

He looked back.

Hundreds of baby spiders were crawling out of the mass of webs covering the walls. This wasn't a dead end at all- the middle of the next passage way was simply covered and coated in web, and filled to the brim with spider eggs. All of which had been disturbed by the movement, or noise he'd made, or the fire-light, or maybe they just had fan-fucking-tastic timing and he had nothing to do with it at all, but either way they were all shaking and hatching _right now_.

"Did I piss off a spider god or something?" Seth dead-panned. These guys really had it out for him.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a far away city in the heart of the Sinnoh region...

The man spotted his prey. Between winding alleys and across busy roads, he followed. He followed his target underneath the tangle of buildings and power lines that marked the skies, hidden from sight the entire time. He knew just how to move so he wasn't spotted. Pulling his hood down further he knew he was invisible, just another face in the crowd. His target- a light-haired boy with a wide, innocent face- cut through a deserted alley. A short cut for him maybe, but also a death sentence.

The man speed up and within seconds they were alone against the bricks, his arm raised up and pressed against the boy's neck.

"Gimme all your money, and be quick about it," he whispered. He saw the fear in the boy's eyes and knew he'd chosen the right mark. This would be over in ten seconds and he could get outta this dump.

Poof! A flash of light at the boys side- he'd managed to release a pokemon. Shit, a trainer? He hadn't seen a pokeball or belt on this one; it must have been in his pocket. Backing away quickly he released his own, and laughed at the result. He'd pulled out a drapion, a wicked-looking scorpion pokemon as tall as he was with a large tail raised menacingly. His mark had chosen a chatot, a tiny bird type as large as his fist. Known for their musical abilities, not their battling ones.

"Haha, what a tough match this'll be. Sting, slice it's throat," he commanded. The boy cried out as his poison-type advanced.

"No, please don't!" The purple mass of spikes and fangs stopped right in its tracks, suddenly still as a statue. The man paused. What the hell?

"Sting, don't _listen_ to the boy, go attack _now!_" But his pokemon was rooted to the spot, attacking jack shit. What was going on here?

"Um, um," the boy quivered, but seemed to make a decision, and stood a little taller. "Sting, please attack your master." And Sting obeyed.

"Hey, Sting, buddy, what the hell are you playin' at?" he told the purple scorpion, which was rapidly advancing on him, a blank look in its eyes. He ducked, barely avoiding an outstretched claw, dripping with poison. "Wha-what?" A note of fear entered his voice for the first time- he really was trying to attack his trainer! The man tried to find his small knife, fumbled and dropped it, and turned and ran. "Sting, cut it out! We're partners! Remember?" He looked back as he exited the alley, and saw his pokemon right behind him, rearing back with its tail. And that was the last thing he ever saw.

Coughing up blood, face down into the pavement, the man had one final thought cross through his mind.

"_Shit, guess we didn't pick the right mark after all..._"

He coughed a few more times and died then and there, just another nameless, faceless member of the crowd. The younger boy took one look at what had happened and threw up.

"Him or us... him or us," he muttered to himself, as the chatot pressed close against his side. The youth managed to get back up on shaky legs, wiping his eyes as the drapion turned to face him once more.

"Thank you. Um, please go back into your pokeball now. Okay?" It obeyed without a moment's hesitation. The boy turned to his pokemon, a weak grin on his face as he walked away from his would-be mugger. "Good thing he used a pokemon against us, isn't it? For a moment I thought he'd just use his knife, heh. Then we'd be screwed." The bird cooed and nuzzled against him, sharing his sentiments.

* * *

**Seth**

Seth spun between danger on all sides, the gigantic electric spiders growling at him from the front, hundreds of baby spider pokemon hatching from behind. He attempted to run back, but the gigantic spiders- mummy and daddy spider, he assumed- hissed threateningly and stood their ground. Great. He backed away slowly from them. They weren't firing at least, presumably in case they hit an infant spider. He risked a look back- there was a large tear through the web wall now, and a veritable army of tiny pale green spiders were advancing on him. Death by baby spiders, or big ones? What kind of choice was that? Just when he thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, the torch ran out.

"Oh _hell_."

There was a moment then when Seth though he was truly done for, a moment of pitch-dark hell where the spiders could be miles away or right next to him. Not even being able to see the floor or walls gave him a sense of vertigo, of floating in a strange void, lost to the world already. Then the moment passed with the light. A crackling blue something ahead of him- a light! Seth saw his chance and ran. It wasn't until he was already moving Seth realised where he was headed- directly through the wall of web. Arms flailing like a drunken kung fu master he flicked off the baby spiders now rapidly coating his arms, to no avail. He felt one land on the back of his neck and only barely managed to suppress a shudder and continue running with a monumental effort of will. Somehow he made it through the tear in wall, but was coated in the sticky stuff in a heartbeat.

Then suddenly, just like that the voices got quieter. The clicking and hissing and cries of 'Tula!' from the spiders behind him fell off, barely audible from the other side of the web. Taking this as a good sign Seth continued to run, arms aching from the weight of the chest. He could only just see that blue crackling that had saved his life- it seemed to stay ahead of him no matter how far he ran, like one of those optical illusions. At one point it disappeared behind a corner, but was waiting for him when he turned the corner himself. Seth chased that crackling blue light through the twists and turns of the tunnel for what felt like hours, but before he knew it he was free and out of the caves.

"Sweet sweet sun!" He stumbled out, momentarily blinded as he tried to figure out where he was. The blonde seemed to be underneath a large rocky overhang - this cave led directly out to the beach, hidden from view from the shore. "Wow..." He tore through the shrubbery and bushes, taking in the sights with awe. The sunlight reflecting off the water was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

"Tik, joltik!" Seth spun around, heart jumping like a jack hammer, only to meet the smallest pokemon he'd ever seen in his life.

"Not another spider! Go on, shoo," he dismissed it, "let me enjoy being alive in peace."

"Tiktik!" it insisted, hopping up and down. Seth raised an eyebrow, not sure exactly what the fun-size spider was after. It crackled blue in response, static electricity sending its fur out in a spiky puff.

"Oh, you were my rescuer! Um, cheers little dude." He thought it smiled at that, but it was hard to tell when the little ball of yellow fur was practically the size of his thumb. Seth waved bye to it and started to slog through the waves, keen to return to his camp.

"Tik?" A small voice said from behind his ear. Frowning, Seth reached back and flicked the pokemon off the back of his head. It made a small dunking noise as it landed in the water, which was up to his ankles.

"I thanked you already. Now go on, don't you guys belong in your caves? I thought you all hated the sunlight." The last thing he needed was for the spiders to all start roaming his island in the afternoon. It was hard to believe it was only the afternoon; Seth felt like he'd been in those caves all day. He reached the sand and fell down on it soon after, stretching his tired limbs. He let the mysterious chest fall in the sand next to him. Whatever was in it better be good after all that.

"Jol!" The bug type jumped up and down on the chest excitedly, scurrying around on it.

"How did you even get out of the water?" Seth wondered idly. He'd sort of been hoping the water would carry it away or drown it. "Look, I'm thankful, um, Joltik? Tikjol? I don't really know how they decide on pokemon names, or what order the sounds go in. Anyway, I'm super grateful, but I don't like pokemon."

"Tik?" It stopped its scurrying for once and eyed him, head tilted to the side. Now that it was still he saw it had four legs and two big blue eyes, and possibly two more in its forehead. That or they were tiny blue markings.

"So I'd be really bad company. I'm grouchy, and just wanna get out of this place. Also I won't share my food." The pokemon continued to stare at him with no change of expression whatsoever. "You have no idea what I'm saying do you."

"Joltik!" It leaped at him, hugging Seth's face. He slapped away at it, but he only managed to smack himself in the nose. He could feel it spinning around, burrowing or making a nest out of his hair, all the while making gleeful noises. Yup, it didn't understand a word he'd said. Great.

If you had asked Seth that morning what the top three things he wanted to find down in those caves were, he would have said, in order: a way off the island, other people to share his misery, or lastly a ton of food, tools or anything similar that could make his stay a little more bearable. Well he was still stuck on the island. He'd found some kind of tools, but as it turned out later nothing in that box would ever be even remotely useful for his escape. But he had found someone to share his misery with! Admittedly that someone was a four inch spider currently trying to eat his hair, who was stalking him against his will, but hey. He wasn't in a place to be picky about his companions.

Seth groaned as he marched back to camp, not sure what he'd hoped to find in that cave. He could only ask, "Why another spider?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! We finally have a hint of the main plot happening over in Sinnoh, ooh. Let us know what you think of that! Next chapter will be Brian-centric to keep things balanced, we haven't forgotten him. Until next time~


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